


Drink Three Times if You've Got an Ex Among Your Friends

by writeranthea



Category: 18th Century CE RPF, Historical RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drinking Games, Friends to Lovers, M/M, One Shot, Secret Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-25 19:56:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17731640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeranthea/pseuds/writeranthea
Summary: The younger man‘s hand was warm where he laid it onto his forearm. “It‘s okay, Fritz. I‘m not interested in him and he‘ll learn it soon enough,” Giacomo said with a nod, his smile lingering.God, Friedrich was so in love.





	Drink Three Times if You've Got an Ex Among Your Friends

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Melian12](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melian12/gifts).



> I wrote this while procrastinating over an assignment, so this is pretty random :-)
> 
> Not betaed, all mistakes are mine.

Friedrich sighed as he closed the last of that day‘s files he had been working on and put it onto the stack of those he had already finished prior. He had been sitting bend over his desk since his morning lecture had finished and he sighed again as he picked up his phone, which had practically been bombarded with texts while on silent mode.

Working until 9:30 on a Friday night was really not what he liked to do, but he more than enjoyed his job as junior professor for criminal law so he did what the job expected for him to do. He didn‘t even even got to catch up with the three dozen group chat messages before he was called, and the name that appeared on the screen of his phone made his heart beat a jackhammer‘s rhythm against his rips.

Giacomo Casanova.

He had known the younger art historian for about a year now, the two having met at one of the university‘s charity dinners, and Friedrich‘s feelings for him had long shifted from those of simple friendship to a massive crush. While he knew that Giacomo was bisexual, having been told so by the other, he yet had to come up with the courage to confess to his feelings. In the relatively short time that they knew each other they had become close friends, often meeting for a coffee in between two lectures, and Friedrich didn‘t want to risk their friendship because of how he felt. It also didn‘t help that Hans, Friedrich‘s ex boyfriend, worked in the same department that Giacomo did and while Friedrich and Hans, who preferred to go by Katte, had seperated without any real bad blood and had decided to stay friends, he didn‘t trust Katte of speaking good of him all the time.

So yeah, Friedrich von Hohenzollern was in a pretty much procedural situation. He answered the call with a smile which he hoped could be heard in his, “Hello?” “Friedrich, hey! I‘m sorry for calling, I know you don‘t like it but you didn‘t respond to any of my texts.” He was able to make out low music and laughter in the background and the younger man‘s voice was cheerful and carefree and it brought back that warm feeling to the pit of Friedrich‘s stomach. God, he was worse than a teenager. “What are you doing? It sounds like you‘re having fun,” he answered, keeping his eyes on the expensive fountain pen he was still holding in his right hand. “It‘s why I‘m calling, Fritz. Why the hell didn‘t you answer to my invitation?"

“Your invitation?”

“Yeah, my invitation. I send it into the group chat.”

Friedrich sighed, “I‘ve been working all day, I‘m sorry I didn‘t manage to check it out.” “It‘s okay, I understand. You will come though, right?” He could practically hear Giacomo‘s fake pout and his smile grew wider, “I didn‘t say that I won‘t be, Giacomo. Of course I‘ll come -” Giacomo made a sound of victory and the people in the back applauded and cheered, making Friedrich snort, “Where to?” “My place, you don‘t need directions for that do you?” “No, I don‘t,” he pushed his chair back to be able to stand up, “who did you invite?” “Just a few; Philippe, Achille, Achille‘s cousin,” Giacomo‘s voice dropped low, “whose name I don‘t remember and who seems very eager to get to know me,” before it went back to normal volume, “Henry and Katte.” Friedrich had been able to hear that Giacomo had pressed Katte‘s name out and awaited his reaction even though the older had ensured him many times that he didn‘t have a problem with them being in contact. Katte was Giacomo‘s colleague and he knew that Giacomo would eventually befriend him.

“I‘ll be there in about thirty minutes - and tell Henry to not drink too much!” Giacomo laughed at the other end of the line, “He‘s of legal age, Fritz, so there‘s nothing I can do. See you!”

The drive from his place to Giacomo‘s was a short one, not more than ten minutes, but Friedrich wanted to at least dress somewhat nicer so thirty minutes he needed. He payed Wilhelm, his chauffeur, an extra tip for working so late in the evening. “It‘s not so late as you make it out to be, Sire,” the chauffeur tried to argue but Friedrich pressed the bills into his hand. “We‘ve talked about this, Wilhelm. I‘m not my father, there is no need for a ‘Sire‘.” Wilhelm nodded as he pressed the button that would unlock the passenger‘s door, “You are as different from your father as a son of his could be.” “I know, I‘m hearing it quite often. Good night, Wilhelm.” Friedrich smiled at the older man and made sure not to close the door of the Bentley too hard after getting out, the car behind him leaving as he walked up the driveway.

Giacomo‘s parents had passed away in a boating accident a couple of years ago, leaving the estate and other assets to their only child. Friedrich admired it like he did every time when he took the stairs up towards the double-winged entrance door and he didn‘t even had to knock before it was zestfully opened to reveal Giacomo standing in it, grinning and cheeks tinted from what Friedrich believed to be a mix of alcohol and merriment. “It‘s about time you came, Fritz.” “I‘m sorry -” Giacomo tsked, “I think you know that I was joking. Come in, come in!”

The interior of the estate was held was held within a true Italian Baroque touch, gilded wooden frames and marmor and all that, and Giacomo often described it as his own heaven as he had specialised on that period of art. But indifferent to him Friedrich had no eyes for it, especially not on that evening. How could he if the younger man in front of him was so much more beautiful to look at. He was dressed in a white cotton blouse paired with dark jeans, it acentuated both his tan and the blond of the curls that hung down onto his chest. Friedrich wanted to do nothing more than do just drive his fingers through them to find out if they were as soft as they looked like... No, he knew that he had to swallow those thoughts down.

Friedrich and Giacomo chatted as they walked through the entrance hall and towards the stairs that would lead them to the lounge, and the older man truly struggled when they took said stairs and he was given an exquisite view of the other‘s well-formed backside. That Giacomo was swaying his hips as if to catch his eyes was surely all due to Friedrich‘s vivid imagination.

“The crown prince has returned from his journey,” the blond teased and bowed, announcing Friedrich‘s arrival with his arms spread out, “to gift us with his presence.” “I‘m no prince and you should stop quoting Versailles,” Friedrich rolled his eyes but smiled as he greeted the other guests with a raise of his hand. “You‘re not a prince in this life, but you would‘ve been if you would‘ve been born two hundred years ago.” “I sure would‘ve liked to build my own palace.” “Who wouldn‘t.” He and Giacomo sat down on the free space on one of the leather couches that stood around a glass table and Friedrich got handed a drink as soon as he did. “You have some catching up to do.”

While Henry was his nephew, he was also just five years younger than Friedrich himself was and thus even older than Giacomo, but only by a year. The perks of having older sisters and all that. “What‘s in it,” Friedrich asked, eyeing the strangely pink liquid. “Dos Mas, I think. _Come on_ , drink it, you need to get your level up so we can start the game.” “What game?” “Picolo,” Philippe answered for Henry, busy lining up seven glassed to fill them up to the rim with Tennessee Honey. At least they were somewhat sophisticated, no longer using cheap wine that would give them all various aches in the morning. “Caliente though, right?” Katte asked, sipping from his drink, “The other modes are pretty boring.” “Yeah yeah,” Philippe appeased him and stood to pass each of them a glass. “Remember, this will hit you sooner rather than later. It‘s pure.”

Friedrich made a grimace as he drowned the last of the truly horribly sweet drink that Henry had given him, he preferred a nice glass of whiskey over those party drinks but hey, Giacomo was sitting next to him so he would definitely not complain about it. “Who‘s phone are we using?” “Really? You forced me into buying that mode, Katte,” Giacomo snorted and pulled out his phone, unlocking it and opening the app to start typing in their names. He rubbed his hands together in anticipation, “Alright, are y‘all ready?” Friedrich knew that he was way too sober for it, but again chose not to speak out his complain.

The collective “Yes” made them laugh and Giacomo cleared his throat, “I‘ll start. Henry, make up your mind: which player do you think has masturbated more this week, Katte or Philippe? That person must drink two sips.”

Henry, the youngest of the group of friends, groaned and buried his burning face in his hands, mumbling his answer. “Katte.” Said man did as he was told without a word of complaint, carefully drinking from his full glass before he reached over the table to take the phone from Giacomo. He and Friedrich looked at each other, though only for a split second, there were no long lost feelings between the two of them but trying to be friend after falling out of love in the course of a ten-year relationship was everything except easy. “Giacomo must be smacked on the butt by Maximilien or drink two times!” Giacomo motioned to choose the latter but haltered when a sound of disappointment went through the round. “Don‘t be boring - or do you _like_ it,” Philippe asked, wirggling an eyebrow at him and Giacomo‘s answer of “No, I don‘t like it” followed way too fast.

He still got on his feet and moved around the table until he stood in front of the red-head which Friedrich had never seen before, he already carried a dislike for him. Maximilien full-on grabbed Giacomo and turned him over his knee, an action which made the Italian squeak in surprise, to smack him once, hard, across the seat of his trousers before allowing him to scramble up again. Friedrich was sure that his own face was just as colored as Giacomo‘s was and he kept his eyes firmly planted downwards as he sipped from his drink, hoping that the alcohol would help him to calm down because _that_ had been an image for the time he would spend alone in the darkness of his bedroom.

Friedrich tried to focus on the song that he didn‘t know. It really was just his luck. “You didn‘t actually have to hit so hard, you know, “ Giacomo said as he sat back down beside Friedrich, making Maximilien laugh. “I can hit much harder if you want me to.” “Give me my phone,” Giacomo said, deliberatedly ignoring the comment. “Friedrich, take off an item of clothing or drink three times.” “Do socks count?” “No, they don‘t.” Friedrich chose the drink and when his and the younger man‘s fingers touched as he was being passed the phone, he wanted to do nothing more than to take his hand. The alcohol was slowly getting to him and resisting his urges would become only harder it he would continue to drink like that.

“Katte,” _fuck, if that wasn‘t awkward_ , “if you‘ve ever asked your partner if it would be possible to have a threesome, give out two sips. Drink them otherwise.” “Henry, take both of them,” Katte said the second Friedrich had finished reading out, the two deliberatedly ignoring each other‘s presence. “Drink, it‘ll help.” Giacomo had leaned over to whisper into Friedrich‘s ear, making the older wince inwardly and when Giacomo moved away again, he allowed his knee to slightly bounce against Friedrich‘s.

The phone was passed through until Katte got a hold of it. “Song we‘re ashamed to know by heart, the first to run out of ideas has to drink four times. Achille, you start.” Achille snorted, “Easy. _Blackjack_ by Cupcakke.” “ _Keep Hoes Alive_.” “Ashamed? Uh... probably _Low Life_. That song‘s bad as hell and just as catchy.” “Why did I already know that,” Giacomo bursted into a laughter that shook him. “What‘s that supposed to mean?” “Come on, Katte, you know that the walls of your office aren‘t exactly sound proof.” “Yeah I like to sing, what‘s so bad about that?” “It would be a completely different story if you _could_ sing...” “Okay, I can‘t say that that didn‘t hurt my heart.”

They almost managed to go two complete rounds but Friedrich really didn‘t know another song he was embarassed of other than “Everytime We Touch” and Henry actually had to refill his glass for him to be able to drink the third and fourth time. He was definitely feeling the alcohol then, the hazing cloud that wrapped around his head and made the world seem to spin a bit slower.

If his voice happened to be a bit slurred he didn‘t notice it. “Philippe, let someone of your choice give you a hickey wherever you want. Any refusal means two sips.” “Hm,” Philippe rubbed his chin in the perfect pretentious thinker pose with one and ran his other hand through his honey-colored curls, making it very obvious that he had already decided on an answer. “Henry, would you do me the honor?” They laughed as Henry blushed, nodded and obeyed, sucking a red and prominent bruise right above the frenchman‘s collar bone. Philippe _moaned_ and put a hand in the nape of Henry‘s neck, closing his eyes as the younger worked on his task.

“No boners before it hits eleven guys, remember the rule.” “Who the fuck made that a rule.” “Me.” Henry stuck out his tongue at Katte in response and sat back down with the phone in his hand. “Maximilien, give out three sips to the sexiest person in the room. Chose someone other than yourself, we all know that you‘re handsome.”

“Giacomo.”

“Of course,” Giacomo whined and picked up the glass to take three tiny sips, he had already reached the level of intoxication he was most comfortable with. “But it still feel honored, thank you.” “You really are sexy.” “I‘m sorry I didn‘t catch that, what did you say?” Friedrich, who had murmured into his glass, swallowed, “N-nothing.” “Henry,” Giacomo continued, though his eyes rested on the man sitting next to him with an unreadable shadow behind them, “give out as many sips as player last names you know.” “Shit, uh, von Hohenzollern -” “That‘s literally your own name.” “And Friedrich‘s so it counts, shut up Philippe. Uh... Casanova, de Lorraine, Delacroix...” “I‘m just gonna pretend that I‘m not hurt,” Katte said with a dramatical sigh as he wiped at an imaginary tear in the corner of one eye. “Yeah do that and drink two times while you‘re at it. Philippe, take the other two.” “Sure thing, baby.”

Friedrich‘s eyes narrowed as they switched between his nephew and the frenchman, he was sure that this was more than simple teasing. Henry ususally never blushed so easily. Interesting. “Who‘s next?” “I‘m being pretty much neglected here.” “Alright. Can you catch?” “Do not throw my pho - you‘re lucky he catched that.” “Easy up,” Achille laughed. “If you have ever made a sex tape, drink three times.” He looked around with a grin and his eyebrows raised, eagerly awaiting if, and if, who would drink. Achille‘s eyes weren‘t the only pair that would‘ve fallen out if it had been possible when Giacomo‘s face turned red as he raised the rim of the glass to his lips. “You did _not_ -” “ _What?!_ ” “No way, he‘s lying...” “You would‘ve told me -” “You did _what?!_ ” Philippe‘s repeated cries outdid those of the others and he looked at his best friend with a dumb-struck look on his face.” You starred in a porno and didn‘t tell _me?_ Not to mention that it certainly isn‘t wise for a career -”

“I didn‘t do a porno, man, I just filmed my first time with a guy, alright? Nothing too wild, I‘m the one who has the film and he was alright with it. And I was twenty-one.” Friedrich couldn‘t help it, he literally gaped at Giacomo whose face had since gained enough color to match a tomato. “You are kinky, I like that,” Maximilien whistled and winked at Giacomo and Friedrich knew that the ginger-haired man wouldn‘t hesitate to undress Giacomo right then and there and the thought that the Italian could possible jump on that train made Friedrich‘s blood boil. Well, not literally, but he‘d still rather not think about it.

“Drink three times if you‘ve got an ex among your friends.” Friedrich snapped out of his thoughts and drank, taking the phone that Giacomo passed to him rather than to Katte. “Achille, name a sexual act that you haven‘t done. Anybody who has done it, drink three times.” “Threesome.” Katte was the only one who drank, and he didn‘t seem too happy about it as he snatched instead of took the phone that was being given to him. They all knew that he had cheated on Friedrich merely because the latter hadn‘t been interested in a threesome, but Friedrich was too drunk to think about it.

“Everyone take off a piece of clothing!”

Henry took of his shirt, so did Achille, Maximilien and Katte while Friedrich got rid of his cashmere sweater only to reveal a shirt underneath it. Philippe unbuttoned and shrugged off his dress shirt and Friedrich had been able to hear the blood rushing in his ears when Giacomo... _oh god_ , when he undid the buckle of his belt, tugged his trousers down and kicked them off until they landed on the floor. “They‘re uncomfortable as hell anyway and y‘all are just too shy to do it, too.” The Italian wore white boxers which, too, accentuated his tan and Friedrich tried not to make a sound of disappointment when Giacomo pulled a pillow into his lap. “Still doesn‘t mean that you have to stare.” “Sorry honey,” Maximilien threw him a kiss and Friedrich didn‘t think twice before he leaned over until his mouth was at Giacomo‘s ear.

“Do you want me to tell him off? I can see that you‘re uncomfortable.” The younger man‘s hand was warm where he layed it onto his lower arm, “It‘s okay, Fritz. I‘m not interested in him and he‘ll learn it soon enough.” Giacomo nodded and smiled at him, his smile lingering.

 _God, he was so in love._ Friedrich was downright beaming with pride as he sank back down against the backrest of the couch, the expensive leather squeaking softly. “Friedrich, make up your mind: which player do you think would feel less awkward about sleeping with a friend‘s parent, Katte or Maximilien? That person must drink three sips.” Friedrich snorted, “What kinda question is that,” and cocked an eyebrow at Giacomo who had been reading it out. “If you knew how many dilfs I‘ve met as a teacher -” “Yeah sure cool Philippe, I don‘t wanna hear it. Please.” “Come on, Fritz,” Giacomo said in a sing sang voice, “we want an answer.” “Well, since Katte is pretty much comfortable with cheating I think it‘ll be him.” The group fell silence in respond, anxious if that comment had been enough to anger Katte, but the man was, thankfully, the type of person that got easy-going rather than easily irritated when drunk off his head.

“I appre-ciate that,” Katte hiccuped and snorted, wobbly on his feet as he raised to take the phone and Friedrich let out the breath he hadn‘t been aware he had been holding in. “Henry, who do you think would give the best head out of - out of the people in the room? Answer and drink two times.” “I - I don‘t have an answer to that.” “Come on baby, don‘t be shy,” Philippe chirped, wiggling his eyebrows. They had underestimated just how fast games like this made you drunk. “Is there something I should know,” Friedrich asked, smirking as he looked at his nephew who blushed from one second to the other and rasped a “no”, which the older decided to accept. “And out of spite I‘ll just say Giacomo.”

“I‘ll never protect you in front of Friedrich ever again,” Giacomo snapped, “but I take it as a compliment.” Friedrich was sure that the odds had turned against him because _come_ _on_ , what he‘d heard that evening would be enough to run the movie in his head for at least a month. _Well, Giacomo did have pretty, full and curved lips..._ “Philippe, give out three sips to the player you know the best.” “To my brother from another mother. Bottoms up, Achille.” “God, I hate you,” Achille murmured and drank, slamming the glass back down after he finished. “And I hate that drink.” He swallowed hard to calm his stomach before he read, “Maximilien, let someone of your choice kiss your chest, three sips for the one that refused.” Maximilien‘s face split into a toothy-grin that reminded Giacomo of a predatoral animal, and he just managed to keep from sighing when he was chosen.

He looked at Friedrich, he didn‘t even know why he did so, but Friedrich was looking at him, too, making his heart skip a beat. Giacomo bit his tongue, he knew that he would need to be more careful. Words spoken couldn‘t be undone. So he stood, pillow still held in front of his groin and managed to walk over to Maximilien with just once almost stumbling over someone‘s feet. “Right here, baby,” the ginger-haired man spoke with a silky voice, pointing to a spot close over his left nipple. Giacomo rolled his eyes and bend down kiss it, it was rather just a peck but he kept his lips in place for a few seconds to satisfy the other enough for him to not complain. How could one be so intrusive, they just met and he was sure that he didn‘t want to see him again.

Friedrich‘s mouth had dried up as Giacomo had bend at the waist, the fabric of his boxers stretching over the taunt globes of the younger man‘s ass and leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. “Would you do that again?” “It said one kiss, Maximilien, so no.” “It‘s a shame since your lips felt really good on me.” Giacomo didn‘t answer to that horrible pick-up line, glad when he was back at Friedrich‘s side on the opposide couch with his phone on his hand. He drank a sip before he read the next one, “Fritz, start by drinking three times then tell us your ideal blow job or how you would give it.” Henry, who just had his mouth full, snorted and spit out some of his drink, swallowing and coughing before he rasped out, “Come on, _uncle_.” Friedrich shot him a dark gaze as he drank and then opened his mouth to speak, but he found himself unable to say a word when he turned his head and his eyes met Giacomo‘s.

He hadn‘t been aware of being watched and when the younger man purred a questioning “and” before darting his tongue over his lower lip, hope burned brightly in Friedrich‘s chest - had he not imagined all those things after all? The swaying of the hips earlier, the knees, the hand on his lower arm... Philippe cleared his throat, cutting the moment that had included only them to an end and Friedrich‘s mouth turned into a snarl, only momentarily, when Giacomo averted his eyes away. “Seems like you two were having a moment.” “Yeah right, as if,” the Italian snorted and took a small sip. _As if..._

Friedrich cleared his throat, sitting up a bit straighter and into a more comfortable position. “The perfect blow job...” He dared to look at Giacomo out of the corners of his eyes and the same burn returned to his chest when he found the younger to be looking at him again. “I know it sounds cliché and all but those given by the person you love are always the best, plus I like them rough.” “You do?” Giacomo‘s question hadn‘t been what Friedrich had expected and he was slowly but steadily coming to the realization that if he wasn‘t imagining it he and Giacomo would have to talk... preferably when sober. He couldn‘t stand it, not touching him when he was so close, so available. He couldn‘t stand it not assuring him of his love, of not showing him how good of a person he was. No, Friedrich had no crush on his friend. He had fallen in love, over time and with all of his heart.

“Yeah,” he rasped out after a couple of seconds, looking down at his hands rather than at anyone else. Henry and Philippe shared a gaze, but the others were either too drunk or completely unaware to what had just happened in front of their very eyes. “It‘s your turn,” Giacomo said and offered Friedrich the phone, “Fritz.”

“Thank you.” “You‘re welcome.” “Drink two times if you‘ve ever watched people having sex.” Everyone, except for Henry, drank. “My god, we are a nasty bunch,” Katte murmured, he was probably the one with the hightest alcohol level as he always turned out to be the one that has to drink the most. Though Giacomo followed was only slightly behind him he still was way less intoxicated. Philippe motioned for Friedrich to give him the phone, which the latter did. “Friedrich.” He was pretty sure that his name wasn‘t the one on the screen, “smack someone‘s ass five times, two sips if the chosen one refuses.”

He made a mental note to thank Philippe later because Giacomo turned over onto his stomach on his own, and Friedrich‘s jaw fell slighly when the younger shuffled until his hips were perched on one of Friedrich‘s thigh. “Give it your best,” Giacomo spoke low and Friedrich was sure that his trousers hadn‘t been so tight prior to the younger looking at him over his shoulder, the shine in his eyes speaking of his own excitement. Friedrich kept his eyes locked with Giacomo‘s as he put his left hand on the younger‘s waist and raised his right. _Smack_ , _smack_ , _smack_ , _smack_ , _smack_. They were by no means hard hits, but still enough to make the skin of his backside tingle and Giacomo pulled his bottom lip between his teeth when Friedrich‘s hand stayed on his ass afterwards, gently rubbing as if to ease out the hurt it just caused.

With all the possibilities in the world, Friedrich never would‘ve guessed for Giacomo to have a spanking kink. Never, he would've swore that on his father's grave.

Neither commented when Giacomo didn‘t move from the position, his butt still raised on the older man‘s thigh and Friedrich‘s hand still on it, petting and caressing. Philippe didn‘t even think of giving the phone to Friedrich. “Katte, choose two players who‘ll finish their drink and French-kiss each other.” “You and Henry.” Henry drowned the rest of his drink like a shot before he practically jumped to his feet and onto Philippe‘s lap, straddling him as their tongues explored each other‘s mouths. “Yeah, they‘re definitely not doing that for the first time.” Achille snorted at Giacomo‘s obvious and picked the phone up from where Philippe had carelessly discarded it.

“Drink four times if you like giving or being given a slap on the ass.” “Now that‘s not fair,” Giacomo gasped, leaning heavily onto his elbows. “You just made that up.” “Nope,” Achille turned the phone so that he could read it himself, “seems like Picolo knows you too well.” The Italian groaned and reached for his glass, just like Friedrich did, and he gasped when one of his backside cheek‘s was pinched. He didn‘t need to look at the man whose lap he was over to know that he was smirking.

Achille passed the phone to Maximilien, as Henry and Philippe where still busy robbing each other‘s air and Friedrich had bend down to speak soft words into Giacomo‘s ear, words that made the blond blush and bite his lip.

“Drink two times if you want to have sex right now -”

Maximilien didn‘t even get to finish reading it out before Friedrich had stood and pulled Giacomo along with him, the laughter of the two men only silented after the door of Giacomo's bedroom had been slammed shut.

 


End file.
